


A Trick of The Mind

by orphan_account



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Blacked, Cheating, Corruption, Domination, F/M, Mind Manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 08:34:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21176486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He had wronged her in the worst of ways. He had insulted her. He had made her a butt of some juvenile joke, to get a laugh out of a crowd, and her team. That was the most degrading thing Emma Frost had endured, but she was not about to let it lie.Not when she had the perfect revenge plot, in the form of Mary-Jane Parker and Miles Morales.





	A Trick of The Mind

The Avenger’s Mansion. What a lucrative and well-kept building it was. Marbled with white stone, swashed with magnificent paintings, and hiding behind nearly every wall in the surprisingly spacious building was either a tool of defense or offense, depending upon the need of an assault. One couldn’t walk into the building without the sense of both security and comfort.   
  
It was the perfect place to hold a gathering of Earth's mightiest heroes, the absolute grandest location that also promised to be the most protective. They certainly couldn’t entertain anywhere else, for fear of being wiped out. But the mansion not only promised to defend them from even the greatest of threats, it also had much to offer. And the party, currently in mid-swing, felt that sense of security.   
  
In truth, if she were being so bold, Emma Frost may consider herself to be closer to the mansion then the usual residents. She was, after all, everything it was meant to be. Cool, protective, inviting, and most importantly, hiding many things just beneath the surface. And now was no different.   
  
Even as she leaned neatly against a wall, eyeing the members of superheroes around her, watching them talking and conversing, she kept her figure poised and beautiful, as one of the most powerful X-Men should, and watching the party goers with an eye of indifference, but held in it a point sharper than the diamonds her skin could frost into. The figure she wanted to toy with now wasn’t here yet, but she had her eyes on that man.   
  
Spider-Man. Peter Parker.   
  
Ever since seeing him at the X-Mansion months ago, she had come to  _loathe_ that individual. Dismissive yet energetic, brash and unfocused, cunning, yet belligerent, it was near impossible for her to have a conversation with him without the web-slinging insect spitting off a joke at her expense, often at that. Demotions that she was thick headed, her mind was too open, and most insulting of all, that it only took a scratch to mar her, like an actual diamond.   
  
Petty she wasn’t, but insulting her with such aloofness was no simple thing. Emma had resolved to harm the Spider-Man in that day, but not in any overly dramatic fashion. Once more, she was  _not_ petty. She would not demand blood for words. No, she would only show that the man was less capable of managing his household as she was, as he said, opening herself up. It was to his detriment then that he may have forgotten, or merely hoped that she wouldn’t peek inside his mind.   
  
But she had. Emma Frost swirled her glass of wine, watching Thor greet Bruce Banner, as she recalled the thoughts of the insect. Seeing him flying through the city by force of jump, entertaining the masses with the same jokes at  _others_ expense, all of it. Including another person at the center of his mind.   
  
A certain spunky, yet admittedly beautiful, redhead. Though not a candle to her own pristine beauty, Emma Frost could admit Peter Parker had good taste, and fine game, to catch a lady as beautiful as Mary-Jane Parker.   
  
A true shame then that he didn’t think she’d follow through on insults to her character. Insults that had started a plan set in motion months ago. So much time had passed, and the pawns in her game still didn’t have an idea what board they were on, or what roles they were about to play…   
  


* * *

  
There was something erotic about the beach. For adults, that went unsaid. Even if there were children running into the water, chasing and running from the waves, or filled with tourism and selling of merchandise, the allure of the beach and all that it contained helped one feel warm both inside and out. The sun had little to do with it, especially when one already wore little at the beach.   
  
And on this particular day, on the warm sands of a Florida shore, residents who walked the beachfront were greeted to a sight even the locals called magnificent. A photo shoot with models of varying ethnicities and builds, from athletic amazons to suave models, all of them posing for the camera in positions and manners that average men could never even hope to see outside of the pages of a book or screen of the internet. Even then, they were lucky to find the sights these men did now.   
  
Bathing suits that look more like bits of string then actual swimming attire, vanishing into the ends of asses and hardly covering the areolas of the women who wore them. Showing off every bodacious curve they had, all the way to the full view of their asses, strings vanishing into their pits and coming out just in time to hide the lips of their cunts. Even then, camel toes couldn’t be so well avoided.   
  
And one of those women, despite how little she enjoyed wearing the attire, fit and showed it better than any other.   
  
“That’s right Mary-Jane, keep at it!” The photographer barked almost like a drill instructor, talking as his camera flashed at the bountiful and lurid redhead. A woman who was happily married, yet managed to thread her fingers through her hair, ruffle her appearance, and wear the soft alluring look of a desperate maiden in a king’s chambers. More than a few locals had stood behind the camera man to ogle her. “Keep it up! Keep doing that!” She wasn’t doing anything.   
  
Nothing but taking very low, long sensual extensions of her body, letting her legs stretch out across the sand as she bent her body in ways that made her breasts bounce, her skin stretched, and all but draw a moan from her chest. More than a few men imagined it, earning a quick slap from any partners with them. It did little to quell the heat the woman was emanating.   
  
“Nearly there! Dozen more. Just put your hands up and look like a wave hit you!” Effects, of course. MJ obeyed, as this man dictated her pay at the moment. And she made sure to arch her back, pushing her chest out as far as it could go, to where she nearly heard the string of her bikini snap. Even then, she brushed her long red hair to flow behind her, as she shut her eyes through the flash and cheers of those watching.   
  
She let it all slip over her, thinking more of the man waiting for her back home than the position she was in. One would always be there, and that was what she was going to hold onto.   
  
“Perfect! Stupendous! Excellent shoot MJ!” Mary Jane dropped her hair and her appearance at the words, standing up almost immediately. It did little to keep the gazes off of her, especially when her steps across the hot sand made her breasts shake in time with her feet. She ignored them, grabbing instead for her thin jacket to cover herself up with.   
  
“I told you Donn, only my  _husband_ can call me that,” Mary Jane returned, again ignoring the looks of betrayal that many men wore. She didn’t mind, as she knew none of them would dare to strike out at her. At least not if they wanted to keep their manhood in check. “We good though? Or do you need me later today?” Night shoots weren’t uncommon.   
  
“Eh, check back in two hours. I’ll have to talk to a few of the other girls. Some of them may be looking for getting tomorrow night off by doing it today, can’t be sure though.” That was fair, and she was in no rush. “Go ahead and look around town for an hour. Your stuff will be here, promise.” Wasn’t one the man had to make, seeing as he was liable for all of her materials, she brought with her, non-commercial goods at least.   
  
“I’ll hold you to that,” she remarked, slipping on a pair of sandals and making her way past the crowd. It had thinned a little with her announcement of a mate, but they didn’t dare take their chances to approach her, not when so many eyes were on her. Not that it kept the eyes  _off_ of her. It never did.   
  
Mary Jane Parker walked off of the sand and to the tourist bustling street of the nearby city. City was being generous, as she was used to the New York skyline for comparison, and this was a far cry from that. Only a few buildings standing more than a dozen stories tall, and those were blocks and blocks away. Most of them were already built so close together that they didn’t even offer more than walking space between them.   
  
It didn’t stop her from walking through them, determined to get herself  _lost_ for a few hours. Exploring was best done that way, and before her modeling career, it was when she got her best stories. Before she had to scrape for attention, now she couldn’t get out of it.   
  
“Hey there!” One man called to her from a storefront. She knew it was to her, as they almost  _always_ were. “You a natural redhead, or is the sun just jealous of how hot you are!” Okay, that got her to grin. Deserved a response.   
  
“Natural,” she returned, wearing that smile that earned her a beachfront photo shoot. “But only my husband will ever get to testify to it.” The cheers back at him were met with fervor. But the New York woman barely made it another two strides forwards before someone else approached her.   
  
“Lovely lady! Pretty woman!” A clearly foreign voice called. Though accented, turning to him, MJ could at least tell the boy was getting close to being a man, hair taller than her and with a physique he clearly worked for. “You want dinner? Meal? I feed you,  _free!_ ” Very heavy on the accent, but clearly bold.   
  
“Sorry, work soon,” she returned simply, pointing over her shoulder. The man made to ask again, clearly insistent from his homeland, but MJ stepped around him, avoiding him with ease. When you dealt with creeps from New York all your life, a few foreign boys weren’t going to get the upper hand on you.   
  
Not that he was the last. As MJ was all but assaulted by offers as she walked through the crowded market streets. Time really was being lost to her, to her joy, but she always had to keep herself knowledgeable of where she was. There was getting lost, and then there was getting screwed over, and the latter would not be acceptable.   
  
It was some time until she stepped into a less cacophonous alley, walking down it and avoiding the filth that covered a few of the less cleaned walls. Her eyes turned towards a small shop at the end of it, more like a hole in the wall store, but one that appeared to have withstood the ruin of the rest of the crowded street markets and stalls. Curiosity was building in her, as it so often did, and she made her way towards it. In no time at all, she saw what it was.   
  
“Palm reading?” MJ asked, looking at the signs and then the sole owner. Assumed owner, at least, sitting across the small front and more likely buried in the corner of the stall than actually walking back there. “I have to admit, these kinds of stores are more popular in New York, at least from what I’ve seen so far.”   
  
“Because there are those who do deals to make a living, and others who deal to help others with their tangled lives.” The woman spoke, and MJ had to marvel at how young her voice sounded, despite appearing so old. Perhaps that was just another part of the wisdom she was talking about. “There is much more business to be had, I am aware, but would I go there for a living, or would I stay here to make a difference in the lives of those who find me.”   
  
“Well, not many would think you were smart for doing that,” she returned almost without thinking. “But if you’re doing this to help others, I’ll gracefully thank you and ask if you can give me a reading.” She reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out a few bills. Enough before for a meal, and now to get her palm read.   
  
The woman smiled as aged fingers took them, putting them into some nearby storage container, cramped behind the counter as she was. Without a word, she indicated the seat behind MJ, the woman taking it and automatically holding out her hand. The older woman grasped it, turning it over, and letting her fingers dance across the lines on the skin. MJ shivered at the touch.   
  
“You have a very complicated life, don’t you Mary Jane,” the woman spoke her name, making the redhead blink. “One that is tangled in the lines of fate and carrying with it the fate of another. A hero at that, and one beloved by all.” She was good, very good.   
  
“If I was anyone else, I’d think you were stalking me,” MJ returned again, laughing to keep herself calm. How bubbly and exciting to have the real deal dealing with her. “I mean… you’re not wrong, and just having someone like you looking over my hand-” she silenced herself as the woman raised her hand, wrinkled palm up.   
  
“Hush, for now,” the woman returned. “And listen to me as I line out your fate…”   
  
And that was when Emma Frost started to work.   
  
She let her voice carry out the most obvious desires and suspicions in MJ’s personality, letting her mind otherwise explore the more hidden nature of the woman. She dove into what the redhead was hiding in her mind, as the same woman saw only an elderly lady speaking of a bountiful future for her. She was a clever girl, but she was not so much to be beyond Emma Frost's reach. And as such, it was of no difficulty for the X-Man, elite class mental reader, to work her way into the model’s mind.   
  
In there she saw much of what she suspected. The woman harboring a deep love for the man who she was married to, admiring him for a much longer time than she suspected. Apparently having met Peter Parker in High School, and the boy was as much of a buffoon then as he was now, but with powers to make him more than an insect. An insect still, but only a tad more.   
  
But it was to the delight of the mind reader she found that Mary-Jane thought much the same, at least in the  _more_ compartment.   
  
‘ _Not dissatisfied are you?’_ the mind-reader noted as she looked through the past of Mary-Jane’s tenure as Peter’s fuck buddy. Wife, sure, but she was little more than that. ‘ _He certainly is capable in bed, enough to make you squirm until morning. How gracious of an insect to keep its egg-mare happy_ .’ Perhaps overly cruel but with the insults the man had thrown at her regarding her appearance and abilities, it was all fair game. ‘ _But it appears you want him to not only be capable of more… but also _ different _ in body._ ’   
  
Such an observation came to the X-Man as she saw the same redhead lying with other men through her fantasies. None that she could name, and therefore were unlikely to be other heroes that were apart of the Avengers or such, but they were certainly far from Peter Parker and his thinner pale skin. If anything, they almost seemed  _too_ different. Features unclear, not always the same, shifting between thrusts, and the woman they were fucking not caring if she was looking at them or not.   
  
‘ _A bit of a slut, are we?’_ Emma noted again, knowing the woman wasn’t looking at her as she thought such things. Too busy listening to the ‘old woman’ tell her of a bountiful future. ‘ _Eager for the cocks of strange men. They do call it a fantasy for a reason, but it appears yours are a bit closer to the surface than others. So much so that… oh…_ ’ Her mind turned from the observations of the sexual satisfaction of the women to other connections in her mind.   
  
And her mind found the thoughts of Mary Jane regarding the assistant and current sidekick of Peter Parker, the  _other_ Spider-Man,  _Miles Morales._   
  
Nothing sexual, to Emma’s minor disappointment. Just that of the boy and admiring him for taking after her husband. The same boy flinging through the skies, keeping Peter Parker safe, and watching as he quickly grasped what Peter had to learn alone. The soft beliefs that he’d help her husband retire one day, and respecting him for it. That… and a bit more.   
  
‘ _His personality,’_ Emma noted with a slight smile, blonde hair waving. ‘ _And his body, and his voice, and his abilities in bed._ ’ Again, not with her, but more curiosity. No different she knew than most men or women of the opposite sex. But it was a chance she knew she could easily seize upon. And one that she would be nothing short of a fool not to. ‘ _Why don’t we change the… order… of these thoughts.’_   
  
While MJ listened to an old palm reader tell her of the number of children she would have, and the theatrics they would grow up to have, Emma Parker twisted the thoughts in her mind. No longer was Miles Morales merely a boy she admired; she was now a  _man_ that she  _saw pleasurable_ . And to make it a bit clearer to her already existing nature, one whose dark skin  _enticed her_ . Building up the foundation for what her mind would naturally create, the curiosity.   
  
Wondering if the boy had a cock that matched the rumors, seeing if he had a body to compare to her husbands, seeing if he knew any positions that Peter did not, and wondering what it would be like to be the older woman in a relationship, and yet still dominated by the man whose skin could eclipse hers. She let it all drift up in MJ’s mind, and hold itself there. An idea and nothing more.   
  
‘ _But any good idea needs to grow,’_ the X-Man noted again, even as her illusion traced another long line over MJ’s hand, the redhead completely ignorant to the molding her brain was undergoing. ‘ _And that would mean giving you a reason to look for that idea, wouldn’t it?_ ’ Though she had done it only once in the past, a woman as capable as Emma Frost needed little experience to master the impossible. And one such impossibility was shifting the abilities of one’s body with their mind.   
  
Or in this case, the ability to feel satisfaction. Namely even more,  _removing the satisfaction of her husband_ .   
  
That was all she needed to do. Telling the young woman’s mind that she could not get off to Peter anymore, and that the young darker man in her husband’s life was an option she entertained to think of. Put them together, and the drying oasis from one would naturally draw a  _quenching thirst_ for the other. How appropriate.   
  
And more to her marvel, how  _fast_ .   
  
Emma Frost had barely put the two together before she saw MJ’s mind start to craft ideas of being ridden by younger black men, having her tits squeezed as her pussy was crushed, ass scraping across the ground and arms grabbing at him to draw him in deeper. Face as red as her hair and yelling names she couldn’t even make up, and all the while looking at another group beyond, more men to fuck her senseless.   
  
‘ _I was joking earlier, but you _ are _ quite a slut, aren’t you?’_ Emma posed as she laughed within. ‘ _That will only make these next few weeks for you quite difficult. I’m sure. A pity, as we may have been good friends otherwise. Perhaps your husband will know better than to irk me later on._ ’ She let her own musings go though, content to spend another minute of letting her illusion speak to MJ while she watched the woman’s mind spin with the ideas she planted.   
  
She let them do that, and putting up blocks to keep her from remembering when these started. She never met a woman in the streets of Florida. She never had her palm read by this old woman. She didn’t know when she started to see the thoughts of men like Miles fucking her to be attractive. MJ wouldn’t have a clue, but Emma would. And that would be enough for her.   
  
And MJ blinked back into reality.   
  
“Huh?” She asked herself looking about the small alley she was in. She suddenly felt fatigued, breathing more heavily than when she was doing her shoot. Her own chest beneath the tight jacket she wore seemed to strain, but that was it. Her palm ground itself into her forehead, more upset with herself than anything else. “Ugh, wanted to get lost, but now I’m lost and exhausted,” she moaned to no one.   
  
Her sandals clicked as she walked out of the alley and back into the packed streets around her. More men called to her, and she heard them seek her out by the long slowly tanning legs she had and the bountiful red hair that still flowed behind her. She let them speak, not wanting to waste any more time. She had to get back to the shoot, just in case she was still needed.   
  
“Hey there miss!” Until someone else spoke her name, and she saw a black teen approaching her. For a reason she couldn’t name, she was enamored with him. Even if he was a hair shorter than her, and missing all the hair on his head, something about his darkened skin glistened the smothered sun made her just stop. That… and the way he flashed those pearly whites from his parted lips. “You come down these streets often? Looking for something fresh to find?”   
  
It was a pickup line, and a bad one at that. No mention of her body, just treating her like she was desperate. MJ should have dismissed it, but… wow. Wow she was imagining sitting on this man’s waist as his cock was buried up her snatch, pushing at her womb, all while he made caustic statements towards her. Or maybe she’d be turned around, facing away and grabbing at his ankles as her hips bounced up and down. His dark hands would grab her ass cheeks and  _pound _ them, slapping her ass and making her squirm!   
  
“That a yes, lady?” The boy asked, reaching out to grab her arm. MJ was almost  _wishing_ he would. “Cause I can tell you I’m as fresh as those coconuts falling from the trees. Bet you’d love a taste of mine.” And he was being caustic to her as well.   
  
Which she couldn’t do.   
  
“N-No thanks, sorry,” MJ quickly threw out, turning away from the man, ignoring his calls to her as she hurried her pace. There were more eyes on her now, but she did away with them. She had to get back to the beach, because at least Donn would keep him off of her. At least her photographer knew about Peter and could keep the freaks off.   
  
Not that she was against a freak like that taking her. Even as she broke from the tight quarters of the buildings and into the more touristic street, MJ could still imagine him pulling her halfway into a building, pushing aside the simple G-String she wore and fucking her ass raw. She’d scream and cum and fall over and let the black man come all over her hair, a stranger in the night… and she couldn’t do that.  _No way in heaven or hell_ .   
  
She wasn’t going to break her vow to Peter. Not over a moment of weakness like this. MJ was just tired, fatigued, that was all. Too much time in the sun. That meant she’d have to postpone her own shoot this night, spend some time at the hotel. Maybe call Peter to see if he could get  _ready_ for her when she got back. Or, desperately enough, if he could make it down to her.   
  
That was all she needed, and MJ knew it. There was no way she’d be weak enough to fall into a stranger’s arms.   
  


* * *

  
New York was one of the most dangerous cities in the world. That was a well-known fact. So well known that aliens apparently chose it as ground zero for invasions just because it’d be easier to get the population to bow down to them if they could get their most violent offenders to put down a knee. That was what most were told in school at least.  
  
He didn’t think it was that easy, not with no less than three dozen superhero _teams_ based out of the city. If it wasn’t the Fantastic Four exploring in space and coming back with amazing gifts to help the world, then it was the good old Avengers, making use of their mansions and _massive_ roster to keep the streets clear… ish. Heck, even solo artists like Daredevil were absolute terrors for the thugs. Aliens? They’d be the ones being invaded at that point.  
  
That wasn’t even counting Spider-Man, _the_ staple hero of the people in grand old New York City. The web-slinger, the wall-crawler, the original who kept everyone up and peppy when times got bad or the worst came to pass. He was the one who’d deal a final blow to an alien invader, no issue there. And as luck would have it, he’d be flinging through the city in no time!  
  
_RIIIIIING!_ Or at least as he got out the school doors.  
  
The boy pushed his way past the few people who thought the front steps to a high-school were prime real estate for talking. Three years ago, he’d apologize to them, but as senior on the last leg of his academic career, here at least, he just vaulted over them, giving them a solid thumbs up when he landed, to _much_ applause in his favor.  
  
Or at least what he imagined he could hear when there weren’t calls for the boys to show they were men and chase him. Which, because New York City, they did. Still, the acrobatic boy didn’t have any issue with that. He could use a warm up.  
  
A grin was put across his black features, standing tall, but still shorter than the boys chasing him. He was fast, though training and all, and his dark hands beat at his sides as he vaulted across the pavement, imagining for fun he was so fast he was unmistakable from the shadows of the alley he quickly dove into. Judging by how they were still cursing his name, that was a hard no.  
  
“Get back here Miles! You’re gonna be pavement grease when we’re done with you!” Yup, could still see him, not that Miles Morales had many objects. He made a show of turning around and grinning at them, backflipping over a tipped over garbage can just for kicks. The screams of rage were a nice plus. Didn’t break his stride one bit.  
  
Not as he increased his pace to round onto the street out of the alley, before ducking into another. Easily as he could outpace them, there _was_ something he had to be doing, and it couldn’t exactly do it well if he was going to be spending the whole trip avoiding the bullies. So, three turns into an alley, he pulled out the mask.  
  
The large-eyed and dark mask of his superhero alter-ego, _Spider-Man_. Or at least… his sidekick.  
  
“Baby steps now,” Miles told himself, putting on the mask, and tearing off his uniform, all within a single bound over a door stoop, and onto the wall. “Giant leaps later.” Those were coming up soon. Just as soon as he finished stuffing his clothes into his backpack… and hid it on the rooftop to keep anyone from getting suspicious.  
  
It was with a kick later he had cleared the alley walls, the gap between them, and landed deftly on the next rooftop over. Super legs, probably the most fun with the Spider powers, after wall climbing. Yeah, after that. Web slinging would win if it were a power, and not some invention that he got. _Great_ invention, but not a power.  
  
“_Help! Help!”_ But still one he was going to put to use it looked like. Seconds on the roof and he heard the yell, putting him over the edge and looking across the street. Just in time to see a man grabbing at the purse of a terrified woman. Dozens of kudo points for holding on. “P-Please he-AGH!” But demerits to him for waiting.  
  
Miles jumped again, clearing well over half the street before he started to descend. The wind whipped over his form fitting suit, showing the muscles he’d built up over literal years of training. If anyone was going to gawk, they had to be fast about it, because he shot his hand out and put a web to the nearby wall, just before pulling himself into it.  
  
He hit it with a small thud, just loud enough to make the crook look up at him and gasp. Heh, _that_ never got old. Especially when he abandoned the purse and turned to run. But… ah damn it, he missed his snarky one-liner! Peter had those down pat. Well… he’d just have to make up for it.  
  
“_Hey! _Hold on, don’t leave me hanging!” He yelled the corny line. Overplayed, but the classics were good. Especially when he threw out another line in mid jump, aiming for the thief’s legs. It snagged, making him fall over with a hoof. Miles, however, was still jumping. Right over a nearby street post.  
  
_“AGH! RAG!_” In no time at all, the man was lifted upside and dangled from the metal pole, arms flailing and screaming as the younger Spider-Man hit the ground next to him, covered and all.  
  
“Least you can do is stick around for me.” Better, but he wasn’t sticking. Eh, more baby steps.  
  
_“Oh! Spider-Man! Thank you so much!”_ Miles turned to see the woman running up to him, dark face a bit breathless and… wow, she was easy on the eyes. Very easy. Solid 8/10. Would’ve been a 10/10… if Miles didn’t work with literal superheroines. “I would have lost so much if he had gotten away with this! Oh, thank you! You brave handsome young man, thank you!” Okay, even though she couldn’t see him, it was hard to _not_ blush after all of that.  
  
“Heh, no worries ma’am,” he spoke up, trying to act like Peter did. Had to be Spider-Man. “Just another average day for friendly neighborhood Spider-Man!” Okay, the stuck superhero pose may have been a bit much, but the way the woman squealed for him was even better.  
  
“Oh! You are just so good at this!” The woman kept heaping on the praise, not that Miles was in any hurry to tell her to stop. That would just be _rude_. “I bet you’re going to be one of the greatest heroes on _Earth_ one day, and I’ll… _I’ll _be able to say you saved me before all of that!”  
  
He scratched the back of his head in the mask, listening to the woman give him compliments he honestly thought could only come from someone who’s life he’d just saved, not that Miles was complaining. He had some time to kill, and Peter always said public perception was important. So, there was no need to run from the hot blonde, especially if she was treating him like the hero of all of New York.  
  
That was all the opening Emma needed to get into his mind.  
  
As the teen listened with enraptured attention to the meek housewife he’d _‘_saved’, she looked into the youth’s more hidden desires, the depths of his mind, the same way she had done to MJ only a week ago. She saw what she expected, and what she needed.  
  
The pride for the mask he wore was _immense_, though she herself couldn't understand how one could take pride while hiding one's face. Then again, she also couldn’t understand how a strapping and rather endowed black youth like this had taken to heroism over petty crimes. If he was a villain with his powers, and a _bit_ more cautious, he could give Kingpin a run for the Underworld.  
  
Still, he had a good heart, which Emma was not about to even try and fiddle with. That was a recipe for absolute disaster, one where she _would_ be found out. For now, she had to look for what she could use. Pride was grand, but all heroes had some pride. She couldn’t very well get back at _Peter Parker_ for proving his protégé loved his outfit.  
  
However, peeling back the layers of Miles’s personality, daring to look into the first few layers of his ego, and she could start to see the more lucrative and _lewd_ thoughts. The things she needed. MJ was a little different from where she buried hers, but while hers were surprising, they were obvious to push. Miles, or at least the thoughts he harbored, weren’t just easy pickings, they were _amazingly_ in time with what she wanted.  
  
It was hard to describe a youth fantasizing about Mary-Jane Parker, someone so _close_ to Peter Parker, as anything but.  
  
Even as her illusion kept yapping away to the man, keeping him enticed and docile as she worked, Emma looked around for thoughts of her, _why_ her specifically. The obvious solution was plain. She was _beautiful_. Not only that, but she was also ¾ naked on majority of the lingerie and risqué modelling jobs shot across the internet and covers. Covers that Miles, apparently, had taken to downloading or buying.  
  
Emma Frost _knew_ she had found a gold mine when a memory of Miles beating his meat reached her mental eyes, and the cock in his hands, dark and vicious, was a pleasant sight to see. If she weren’t a woman on a mission, she just might have dined for a taste, letting it fill her cunt to see if he was as youthful as he acted, at least after a day on the job. Deeper in yet though, and she started to see a few more curious sights. The desires and fantasies.  
  
One desire was _not_ what she expected. One filled with _Spider-Man_.  
  
Emma was rather thankful Peter Parker never flashed his nude body through Miles’s mind, if only because it would have made her plan far more difficult. What Emma _did_ see, however, was being _above_ the famed superhero of spiders and children. The darker outfit of Miles Morales being praised more than the red-suited Peter Parker, crowds gathering for him, not the man who had saved New York, but his protégé. His _superior_ self, as it became clear.  
  
Ah, the chest-beating machismo of males. A lucrative and rapturous area to always dive into. It would make playing with the mind all the more easier for Emma. There was, however, one more sight she saw to dig into. One more while her other self called Miles the true gift for the future, and the present of things to come.  
  
She saw the same man who blushed at her illusion saving Mary-Jane Parker from not one, not two, but a _dozen_ high-profile meta-humans. Swooping into some nondescript alley and beating up nearly all of the most high-profile targets to grace even the Cerebro computer, single-handedly. Well, she couldn’t call him anything but imaginative for decking Magneto before clotheslining Thanos, not that even she could imagine a reason for that being possible.  
  
“_Oh my hero!”_ the cry of Spider-Man’s wife, loud enough to make Emma think she was talking to her real self, drew the X-Man away from her musings. From those and straight into the curiosity of Miles standing next to her and… well… far taller than her.  
  
Taller, a broad dark chest rippling with muscle, comparable to the Hulk more so than Spider-Man, and of course, naked. Naked enough to show that amazing cock of his. But per male expectations, upsized more than usual.  
  
Then per fantasies, unsurprised as Mary-Jane drooled over it, the woman’s normally well-kept face looking like it was contorted into pleasure at the sight alone. At least Miles had fine detail, the woman looking like she was in the thralls of sex.  
  
“_Oh wow! That’s… that’s the biggest cock I’ve ever seen!”_ the imagination spoke, quickly getting to her knees as Miles stood tall above her and the unconscious bodies of the villains around him. Fucking over their corpses, how heroic. “_Would you let me suck on this, Spider-Man? Would you let me fuck it until you shoot all of your cum inside of my pussy? Can you treat me like you own me? Pretty Please?_” Her face wasn’t the only thing that was off. Emma had to blink even imagining MJ sounding like that.  
  
“_Of course I would!” _Miles spoke back and… wow, his voice was a lot deeper than before. “_I would _love_ to satisfy a woman like you. I think it would be amazing to teach you just where your ass is supposed to sit.”_ It was also amazingly difficult to tell just where his sense of morals came from, as his dialogue straddled a fine line.  
  
“_Thank you! Thank you so much! Let’s do it in the best location possible! The best place for you to fuck me raw and make me your baby daddy.”_ The amusing words came as the scenery shifted, Miles unperturbed and MJ already stripping out of her clothes. She jumped before the scene finished shifting, landing with a bounce on particles. Particles that quickly formed a cotton bed, large enough for the two of them to lay on, and then fuck for hours. “_Fuck me here. Fuck me right where Peter always does. He has sex with me every night and tries to get me off, but he’s _never been good enough._ I bet that if you stuck that big black cock in me, I’d be screaming your name for _years.” Emma held back her own giggle, though she had to admit. This was a sight to see.  
  
“_It would be my pleasure._” It sure would be. And Emma got to witness the sight of Miles jumping on Mary-Jane Parker, fucking her cunt before she was able to even fall onto the bed. Her screams echoed around the room, undoubtedly from his mind and hers. The fabled mental X-Man had to cross her own thighs at the lurid sounds echoing about the room. They certainly were realistic.  
  
Especially the motions that Miles made, pulling on MJ’s hair as she screamed upwards, face contorted into pleasure and further mashed with slobber falling from her wide jaw. A smile, crooked as her morals, painted on her lips. Her eyes crossed and fluttered with every harsh smack at her ass. And those were, by the diamond woman’s definition, _smacks_.  
  
They came with her cunt _perfectly_ forming around his cock, swallowing it in and hugging it on the way out. A large black rod fucking the white cunt until his balls slapped her clit, making her scream in pleasure with every second he was in her, dragging at her walls on the way out. Her ass winked up at him, breasts clapping with their mating hips. It was a wonderful sight.  
  
“_Fuck me HARDER! Make me your baby mama! Fill me up and let me be yours!_” Apparently, the desire went deeper than just lust, apparently. “_I’ll give birth to them all!_ _I’ll divorce Peter and let you fuck me every day and night, let me roll in this pleasure! You’re the absolute best at this!”_ the dialogue was broken, but the tone was heated.  
  
Tempted as Emma was to continue, she left the memory. She got what she wanted, and she was on a time clock. Plus, she wasn’t sure how able she’d be to walk away if she watched the woman getting fucked to completion. Instead, she took the memory she had witnessed and _dragged_ it. She didn’t have to do anything else.  
  
Just dragged it from the depths of Miles’s ego and right up to the forefront of his mind where he’d think about fucking that redhead every night for weeks to come. That was the perfect spot for it. It could sit there… but his morals would make it awfully difficult for him to make the jump without serious provocation. Emma had already practiced on MJ what to do here.  
  
And that was blocking his relief. No satisfaction to be taken from _anything_ but the woman that was permanently occupying his every thought. Hands on his cock or mouths in the alleys, nothing would get him off but Mary-Jane Parker’s cunt on his cock, screaming his name for pleasure and release.  
  
That was enough for her.  
  
“Thank you again, Spider-Man!” She spoke cheerfully, the illusion hiding her pale features. Miles, was already blushing when she came out of it, she could tell. A mask was effective, but not against an empath and mind reader. She would have enjoyed to see how he got home, and what he’d do, but this was enough for her.  
  
For now, she just had to wait… and watch…  
  


* * *

  
Those were the seeds, and like a good farmer, Emma had been patient for them to grow. Needing the right harvest to reap the crop. She couldn’t pretend this party was coming, and she knew it, but she  _was_ aware of how often the Avengers like to commune, so one was bound to happen. All she needed was one large enough to invite friends and family, so that the appearance of  _her_ star attractions would draw confusion.   
  
That was today, where the party was starting to pick up pace, and she could already tell the man she  _loathed_ had arrived. Namely by the cheers of the ‘friendly neighborhood hero’ entering the communes, to the laughter of the duller heroes and groans of the more attentive ones. Emma drank her wine slowly, watching him as he parted the crowd.   
  
Looking at Peter Parker for a moment, the overly indulgent idiot waving to those who greeted him, Emma noticed how aloof he was. Nothing changed there then. Still the man who would speak down to her for a joke but take a word against his character as a slight. A hypocrite if ever there could be one. How he was able to snag such a beautiful woman as a wife was a mystery that not even Emma could pass with the time spent in the redhead’s skull.   
  
What  _did_ pass, however, was the clear unease that woman had. She didn’t need her sixth sense, and insane mental abilities to see the wife of Peter Parker, dressed to kill in a red cocktail dress and likely matching underwear, was looking rather hot. Hot in the nonexistent collar and a little loose on her feet. Oh, she was surely going to pass it off as the heels. That was the common excuse one could make, but Emma Frost was no fool. Still, a dip into her mind, quick and unobtrusive, let her see those husky thoughts of the normally prime woman. She grinned as she saw what she expected.   
  
Late nights with Peter no longer giving her that release she craved. Fingers and dildos in her cunt even  _less_ so, no matter their size… or color. Her mind was turning towards strangers with eager glee, but always staying an arm’s distance. From loyalty or pride, Emma wasn’t sure, nor did she care. She only knew that every fantasy involved calling her for what she was, a bitch. A hungry cock-hungry bitch, and one that needed it. Emma would ensure she got it, but not  _quite_ yet.   
  
She was just a patient woman, putting away the cacophony of noise around her to focus instead on the boy and his bitch, soon to be appropriately broken. It was for that reason she kept herself away, distant enough to not to have claimed to have influenced Mary Jane  _tonight_ . No, anything that was about to happen was not going to be traced back to her. She was, after all, immensely careful. Flawless as diamonds.   
  
It was that same flawless nature, her attention to detail, that allowed her to see the  _other_ seed, blooming into a pleasant flower, making his way into the manor. With obvious far less attention, new member that he was and still very much under the proverbial wing of his mentor. It still didn’t keep him from getting a callout from other younger members, Dove yelling out to him and getting the dark-skinned boy to grin at a familiar face that likely wasn’t going to judge him.   
  
Miles Morales was dressed rather sharp, likely from the financial aid of either Peter or Stark. His mentor had soft enough a heart to do it, minimal as his own assets were, but Stark would be the one to buy a whole new house just because the floor was smudged. He’d very easily fork over thousands for a suit to make sure the party stayed in full swing.   
  
Emma put that information aside, far more focused on the boy. The boy who, despite wearing a pleasant smile, couldn’t hide the fact that he was bending over quite frequently. So much so that he was saying he had been hit by Doctor Octopus the previous day and was still recovering. Sensible enough, if she weren’t looking at his crotch and admiring her work.   
  
Flared, very much raring to go, but quite obviously pushed to run down his leg. No wonder he was bending over like that, feeling like his cock was being pulled. Though that was very likely just what he wanted. Issue was, as far as she could tell, he had not found much success in the activity, alone at least. He had found no women willing to help and his own hand and photos of Mary Jane did little for him now. It was all just as Emma liked. She lapped it up, sighing as she watched the boy squirm.   
  
Squirm, and trace through him like Mary Jane, reading his mind to ensure everything was still in place. Watching him imagine Mary-Jane falling over him almost comically, but swearing loyalties more befitting for the darkest forms of entertainment and television, and obvious meaning of the world. The boy speaking poorly to her, but promising the  _world_ to her, as she swore to give it back to him. All the while the familiar redhead dove and speared herself on his cock, screaming his name.   
  
How fun that not even in public could the two of them keep their thoughts straight. It certainly would make this evening a bit easier. A housewife with fantasies of domination from those who were bound to her, with skin color to match the morality, and tidied up with months of no sexual release. Then a teenager on the precipice of adulthood, looking to best his mentor and seeing the wife he had as the perfect opportunity, looking to seed her with an orgasm she’d beg him for, in every which hole, wrapped completely with months as well of no masturbation or back-alley hand jobs.   
  
They were so delicate and fragile, ready for the worst to happen to them, but Emma bit her lip to keep herself calm. She could  _not_ just jump into this. Too much too fast… and it would all be ruined.   
  
‘ _Easy girl, you’ve waited this long_ ,’ Emma scolded herself to remain calm, even as she put up an illusion of herself to speak with Cyclops. He was the most likely to defend her if she looked off, and her focus was elsewhere. Namely on the boy and woman who were present, awake, and desperate for the fucking she had seeded in their minds months ago. Nothing too quickly now. The first step was obvious,  _contact. ‘All you need to do is check for punch, don’t you Miles?_ ’   
  
The youth was too young to drink, so him looking for something appropriate other than wine was normal. Having him excuse himself from the few other teens his age, and the absolute slut of a girl Ms. Marvel, as he worked his way to the table. With difficulty as he was constantly grabbing at his leg, the length of his cock making attention hard to stay away from. For now, she helped him… but only for now.   
  
‘ _The drinks are also hard to find, and your husband has others he has to meet, doesn’t he?_ ” Emma thought provoked Mary-Jane as well, the equally flushed woman using the excuse to leave a conversation she was sharing with Peter and Tony Stark, the pair of men thanking her and the husband,  _Spider-Man_ , telling her to meet up before the dinner came, and made Emma nearly howl with delight. Oh, she’d get dessert before then, for sure.   
  
The woman had one hand at her purse and the other  _tight_ at her front hiding her crotch from view. Tight as the dress was, and still clearly free of any noticeable blemish, it was more than obvious to the X-Man what the woman was trying to hide. Namely that the redhead was trying to keep concealed the rather stained dark locks of her loins. That and her panties which  _had_ to be drenched. Men got hard, but women got  _wet_ .   
  
Emma watched them as they slowly moved closer together, eyes on the bar as Miles found what he was looking for. He almost reluctantly grabbed the pitcher, probably more at ease at the table away from others, as he wouldn’t have to hide that impressive erection of his. MJ was mostly the same, for a moment at least, putting hands on the same table and sighing in relief.   
  
That was until, to the telepathic X-Man’s delight, their eyes met one another, earning a quick gasp from the wife and a choked noise from Miles, midway into his drink. Comedy was the hour, but romance was up next.   
  
The two carried their quick introductions, not that Emma cared much for them. Whatever horny toys said to one another wasn’t for her to pay obvious attention to. What she was more interested in was what they were going to say,  _and do_ , afterwards. Undoubtedly what she wanted, not until she gave them the proper push necessary. For that… she just needed to know what they were saying.   
  
“It’s… I-It’s great to see you made it, Miles,” Mary-Jane complimented the boy, her fingers tight on her purse. Oh, and her skin was as flushed as her hair.  _Wonderful_ . Even a bit of a lip bite. Emma knew well why. “You look amazing in that outfit. I bet you spent… a lot of thought on it… haven’t you?” Perhaps not her smoothest line, but her trailing eyes were flowing.   
  
“Huh? Y-Yeah! Sure, yup, my… my dad recommended it…” the boy trailed off, perhaps realizing the error of his lines. “Sorry! No! H-He… he  _helped_ , but I chose it. Been to more parties,  _he_ has at least and… wanted to make a good impression.” The boy was talking to an older woman, his mentor’s  _wife_ , but the eyes for the woman was far south. On her chest, on her legs, on her crotch… oh, and Emma knew just as well why that was. Hard to say you were  _besting_ the Spider-Man while he still had a woman like this as his bride~. “You look perfect…  _wait! _ I-I mean, amazing!”   
  
“Perfect is…  _good_ ,” MJ returned, all smiles and teeth. “I’m glad  _you_ like it. Enough to keep your eyes on me.” Heated as the flush on the woman’s skin was, the dark-skinned youth sported his own now. A stain that ran over his cheeks and made his eyes almost shake. How adorable, but not what Emma wanted. This wasn’t house, it was  _playhouse_ .   
  
‘ _This isn’t a place to talk,’_ Emma had them both realize, rather than think. It wasn’t a thought, just proper decorum, and one they both realized with blushing expressions as well. They looked around for somewhere more appropriate, but Emma kept herself out of their mind for this. It was for them to decide, not her. Or else the more spirited of the two may have doubts, which would break the conditioning.   
  
“Hey you want to… talk by that couch?” Miles offered first, holding his hand out towards a rather unassuming sofa near the corner of the room. Perhaps not the most natural place for the furniture, but in parties such as these, it was far more common than one thought. More so than a luxurious and open room without any furniture. “I mean, I’m sure it must be difficult to walk around in heels all day. Least I hear it is.” He was still as bashful as ever, even if his expression and gaze were brave.   
  
“Yeah, yes, that would be good,” MJ returned, even tapping the tips of her heels on the ground. “It would be good to get off of these.” She turned before the boy did, walking over with him following. It gave Emma a clear view of the woman’s facial expression, namely the way she bit her lip and looked over her shoulder, eyes trailing on the teen who followed behind her, and looking farther south than she needed to.   
  
The party split for them, sitting down without any preamble or difficulty. There wasn’t anything special about the sofa itself, not really. The less Emma had to account for the better. The  _location_ was merely the easiest place for Emma to send out the most unassuming of commands. One so soft, so dull of any ill intent, not even Xavier would be able to tell he was being manipulated. After all, she wasn’t telling them to ignore the couple in the room.   
  
Emma Frost was telling the party to just pay no mind to a corner, and that was it. A corner that Miles Morales and Mary-Jane Parker sat down in, turning to one another with all blushes and almost laughably concealed intent. It was curiosity more than assurance that had her looking into their minds.   
  
MJ was sitting at one end, legs crossed to hide up her dress, but her mind was on the dark-skinned boy and what he would look like without that suit. In this very moment at that. She was imagining him naked and with an erection pointed at her like a weapon, as he spoke orders for her to turn around, saying that her husband wouldn’t know so long as she kept her mouth shut. The blushing bride turning and lifting her skirt for him, and all the while her real-life counterpart scratching at the hem of her dress.   
  
The boy was little different than her, staring at the woman for whom he had many desires, but acting as if it were natural. Despite the fact that even a toe slip into his mind showed Emma how he was imagining the woman begging him for cock, promising him her hand in marriage and offering everything she had to him just to be able to taste his dick. Offering every which hole to her and all the while she called him the  _better_ Spider-Man.   
  
It was so adorable that Emma had to put a hand to her mouth and giggle about it. The two of them were like peas in a pod even before she had rummaged about in their minds. Xavier, despite all his misgivings about mental manipulation, would have  _too_ much difficulty even seeing her hand in this. Easy as it was to make others act, she had no hand in these fantasies of theirs, only how apparent they were.   
  
At this moment… they had to be a bit more…  _up-front_ .   
  
‘ _Maybe a hand on the knee,’_ Emma pushed to MJ, ensuring it was appropriate from an older woman to a boy. She nearly dropped her drink, so delighted by the speed the woman did as ‘asked’. Leaning forward and putting a hand on the boy’s leg, ensuring she was bending over to give him ample view of an equally ample window of her dress. How  _thoughtful_ of her.   
  
Miles, however, was just as surprised, but far from disgusted. His dark face shivered as Mary-Jane let it rest there.  _Without_ Emma’s suggestion, however, it started to guide itself up and down the fine suit leg. It made the mutant grin, watching as the model licked her lips, staring at Miles with obvious want. The boy clearly wanted it, with his hands nearly ripping the cushions apart. Instead…   
  
‘ _Her _ pillows _ look soft… maybe they could use a grip._ ’ That was the deepest her pushes had gone so far, and it was admittedly the straw that may either break the camel’s back, or whip the horse into shape. When Miles raised his hands off the sofa, reaching forward in all the time span of a breath, Emma held her own.   
  
She watched,  _excitedly,_ as he grabbed the tits of Mary-Jane Parker.   
  
_“Oh~_ ,” and the woman  _purred_ in response. Check and mate.   
  
Emma, careful and thoughtful, had already put up the usual blocks for it. What would have normally stopped a party was completely ignored. No one paid attention to the black youth grabbing and  _kneading_ the breasts of Spider-Man’s wife, hands moving on their own accord as they pushed in, pulled apart, and nearly  _ruined_ the dress hiding the breasts from him. Only with the command to grab them, but the youthful Spiderboy was treating them more as dough then pillows.  _Wonderful_ .   
  
If they spoke now, Emma couldn’t hear them. As much as she’d try and overhear them, this time was better spent waiting. Waiting and watching.   
  
Watching as the once uneasy nature of the two adults, though hardly in once case, exploded. She watched the boy almost  _lurch_ further onto the sofa, the redhead eagerly,  _pleasantly_ , falling back and letting him handle her however he pleased. Her hands were far from idle herself, running up quickly from his leg and all too eagerly finding his neck, and crotch.   
  
She gasped when she grabbed it, likely realizing now the size of the boy and comparing him to her husband. The almost relieved smile she wore, complete with a shiver of her lips, spoke pleasantly of what was to come this evening.   
  
Even more so when she was the first one to jump forward and ram her lips against Miles, dragging a kiss out of him. She was in control for all of a second, before the youth raised a hand and grabbed her neck, controlling  _where_ she was as he began to kiss her. Or, more accurately, tongue fuck her. The woman’s head bobbed and forth as if attempting to fellatio the appendage, and it was added with an eager heat to it.   
  
One that was all the more obvious as Miles abandoned her chest completely, and instead emboldened himself to slide a hand up her short dress and into her crotch. The whine was muted by her lips wrapped around Miles’s tongue, further muffled by him kissing her into the cushions. His dark hand was either making clever use of her wet pussy, or the eagerness was like a virile poison in them. Well, they were both very  _virile, much_ to Emma’s enjoyment.   
  
Watching as Mary-Jane was dominated by the younger black teen, pushed down and fucked up and down by his tongue and hand. Her own was shivering on his shoulder, while the other decided to explore what she could on the expensive suit. Her experience in handling men showed when her hand trailed farther south than just his neck.   
  
Down his chest, easily feeling the muscles that had to be pumping as he continued to use her throat as his wetting hole. Emma watched with joy, realizing that Peter was only  _dozens_ of feet away, ignorant of his wife being fucked over by his sidekick. Especially when MJ grabbed the boy’s crotch again, making him  _hump_ the hand, before she was able to thread fingers into the band, and try and explore. It was just when she got in that Emma realized this was happening  _far_ faster than even she expected. She wouldn’t complain.   
  
Because…  _it was time._   
  
‘ _Enough of that_ ,’ Emma quickly penned in her mind, focusing on the teenage boy and the superhero’s wife. The wife of the man who had insulted her, and his  _endowed_ teenage sidekick. She needed them to do more, but not here. If it was all here, among the Avengers,  _someone_ would notice something was off, and then she’d be in hot water again, perhaps worse with what was occurring. No, she couldn’t have that. ‘ _Both of you need to go upstairs. The far room at the end of the second hall.’_ So it was a good thing she prepared for this.   
  
Almost on auto-pilot, she saw Mary-Jane extracting her hands from Miles’s pants, the boy reluctantly pulling his own hands out from under the woman’s dress. She was delighted to see a wetness stained his fingers, and the way he was biting his lips with a strained groan. Oh, she didn’t need mental acuity to know how eager they both were. It was a blessed sight to see now.   
  
The speed at which MJ vacated her seat and headed for the stairs was rather impressive, just as much Miles not jumping over and grabbing her. Emma Frost half expected the black youth to pick her up as she had seen in the boy’s fantasies, but it appeared that even with her mental influence, the child was looking out to make his mentor proud, and acting in such a way was likely one of many things he was told not to do at the manor.   
  
‘ _A shame he didn’t cover coveting the master’s wife,_ ’ the X-Man further amused herself, even as she picked up her purse and casually made her way through the party hall. The rest of the groups were in swing, and laughing as they drank and made raunchy jokes. She gave parting smiles and grins to the appropriate members, apologizing to Xavier for her use of her tools, but explaining that no one wanted to see Spider-Man’s wife getting sick with the booze.   
  
The excuses worked, and she was in the more vacant halls of the mansion, the echoes of the party behind her. Her heels clicked as she made her way towards the necessary room, an observation deck made up with the help of Vision. For protection was what she told him, but spying was what as appropriate. She was only going to be helping herself.   
  
The door clicked behind her as she entered, the dark room silent-proofed to the sound of the party beyond. She stepped out of her heels, undoing her hair into a more appropriate manner. It was hard to think when her pores were being pulled, and she wanted to relax to what was coming. Her fingers danced across the keyboard at a nearby desk, hitting the appropriate passwords and booting up the system for her.   
  
In no time at all, the dozen or so screens were live, each linked to a camera in a specific room, with microphones attached. The X-Man grinned as she looked at them, admiring her work. That was the work of a horny black man feeling up his mentor’s wife, and she diving into him with the fervor of a wanton whore. How  _appropriate_ .   
  
It was a marvel in itself that both of them were already naked, clothes either ripped or strewn at the edges of the bed. The rather ornate dress Peter had to save up for MJ ripped at the shoulder strap and piled under her underwear, soaked even through the lens. The nice suit Miles had worn had survived no better, as the normally pressed and cleaned fabrics were crumpled like used underwear in the corner of the room, out of sight and mind.   
  
Meanwhile, the stars of the show were on the bed. It, and each other. Mary Jane’s pale hands ravishing and exploring the younger man’s body, fingers dancing up his abs and sides, grazing over his neck, only to swiftly fall down and grab at his crotch and ass, squeezing them for all she was worth. Miles was no different, one set of hands always on the woman’s breasts, playing with them like play-dough, and making the model shiver and whimper into the hidden cameras, to the delightful show of the mind mutant watching.   
  
Her show to tell no one, least if there were no troubles, but what a show it was. The idea of watching snuff films suddenly made much more sense to the X-Man now. Especially with the context she had.   
  
Pushing up the hidden desires of the two individuals, until they were willing to throw their complaints aside and jump into it. Kinks and taboos that normal society loathed, and now were being used to entertain not just each other, but Emma as well. A young black youth, a teenage sidekick, a boy barely past his eighteenth birthday, naked and humping the woman who was all but pumping his cock for milk. The sounds she heard spoke of nothing but mind-numbing lust, and she couldn’t  _wait_ to hear the lurid things they spilled from their lips, or  _into them_ .   
  
She wasn’t shy about stripping out of her own attire, preparing herself for the festivities that were about to explode. Naked in an observation room for the Playroom, watching as Miles finally got MJ to whisper his name, through a hot breath and heated moan, as she dragged his head down to her bosom, letting him stuff himself between the cheeks.  _Splendid_ .   
  
Emma grinned as she leaned back in her seat, watching the room’s sole two occupants act as if they were trapped in a tight closet. Flushed together so close, stripped of their clothing, and nearly acting like horny children. Well… one was close enough, and the other had a surprising fling for them. The young adults with darker skin.   
  
The X-Man licked her lips, pushing some blonde hair over her shoulder as she ensured the recording devices were set. The cameras were on, night-vision activated. The microphones were recording, giving back zero feedback. And the room was kept from the view of the rest of the party, ridding the possibility of outside interference. For now, there would be none, now that the seeds of her revenge had grown, and she was getting ready to reap the crops. It was just her, the Playroom, and the young ‘couple’ enjoying one another.   
  
All that Miles and Mary-Jane could think or  _feel was about the other._   
  
Mary-Jane was staring up at the ceiling, wide-eyed and feeling the  _beginning_ of relief for her sexual urges for the first time  _in months._ Months of sex with her husband, letting him take her however he wished and her in turn in order to get that ounce of relief in needed. A building tension that had started in Florida, but was always lightyears away with actually happening. Until Miles had put his hands on her. Then… she just didn’t care.   
  
The young man, now smothering himself in her breasts, playing with them like  _things_ , his dark face rubbing across them,  _nibbling_ on her tits, and making her moan with an arched back, was getting ready to fuck her. She could feel his erection prodding her already sloven pussy,  _and she loved it!_   
  
Her legs trembled every time it passed over her, his muscular dark ass bucking and slamming into her hips, making her squirm from the touch alone. She was putty in his domineering hands, and it only made her skin blush past the hue of her hair, sweat drenching her throughout the ordeal.   
  
“Fuck,  _fuck!_ ” Miles let out, coming up for air from her chest. “Your breasts are the best. Big, firm, and  _mine._ ” There wasn’t any room for argument. Not when he gripped them at the nipples, squeezing them. MJ’s legs nearly convulsed with the strength of it, eyes crossing as liquid began to  _pour_ down her thighs. “Mine to fuck, because you  _love it_ don’t you? You’re doin’ this because you  _want me_ to fuck you. You want me to fuck you up better and harder than anyone else.”   
  
His comments were cruel, so much harsher than the boy she was used to Peter bringing over for dinner. Even crueler still was his hands at her cunt, cock now upright and drawing itself over her stomach. She could feel the precum painting her gut, making her bit her lip. It was even harder as his fingers  _bucked_ inside of her, twisting and pulling at her pussy with abandon. Drawing out the pockets of liquid in it and making her feel like a thing by his command. And she couldn’t say no to it~.   
  
“Who else can fuck you like this? No one!” He answered as he slammed his hips against her, balls hitting her legs and cock running up past her navel. The model’s back arched, already submissive to the black youth, letting him work her over as he pleased. “You want me to fuck you over for real, then you’re going to have to say it.”  _SLAM!_ The demand was made as he shoved his palm against her pussy, clapping it with three fingers in her cunt.   
  
Air left her, making the ability to speak impossible. Her cunt was already  _clenched _ at the fingers, and lightning was dancing past her brain. This was  _so much_ more intense than  _anything _ she’d had with Peter recently. Far and beyond it. Peter couldn’t make her cum, but Miles had just… his black fingers were fucking her pale cunt like a cock, like a  _man._ Her nails dragged on his back as he kept at it.   
  
“Say it! Tell me how good I am. Tell me  _all _ about how I’m so much better than Peter.” MJ had a wave of guilt wash over her… only for it to be beaten out of her with Miles’s palm, slapping at her cunt and fucking her pussy with his digits. They bent and curved into her, making her ass squirm for relief, but finding none. “You want my cock, you want me to do it, then  _say it_ . Tell me what you  _know_ is the truth!”   
  
And it was true! It was!   
  
“Y-You’re better~!” MJ finally managed to scream, the most lurid smile she could ever produce clinging to her features. Her vision hazed and  _blew_ itself away for a moment, just before it came back with a twisted grin down at the black teen fucking her with his fingers. “I-I want you! You fuck me  _way_ better than my husband! S-So keep doing it!” Those were the magic words to open the lamp.   
  
“Oh, I will,” the boy spoke almost ominously, raising a hand off of her cunt and to her head. MJ whined as pockets of cold air filled her cunt, but stopped when she was suddenly dragged down, powerless to the New York youth putting her in her place,  _at his knees._ “Just as soon as you show me how good  _you_ are.”  _SLAP!_   
  
It wasn’t his hand that slapped her, but his cock. His long meaty dark cock, looking like a stocking rod in front of MJ’s sweat drenched face, and with a musky stench almost thick enough to knock her out. Her eyes trailed it for a moment, studying it in the dark of the room. Her jaw was already open, drooling as she imagined just what that thick cock was going to do to her. So much longer than Peter’s… and darker… and it was going to  _fuck her up_ . She was having mini-orgasms just  _thinking_ about it!   
  
“That’s right! Suck it!” Miles all but screamed at her, and MJ took it with joy.   
  
His hands were grabbing at her hair, threading through her locks and gripping her skull like a mast, keeping her face against his groin, and throat clogged with his cock. “I bet you imagined this  _all_ the time, wanting someone like me to just grab you and go to town on you. Walking up the street in the tightest clothing you could find, living in New York just for someone like me to fuck you silly, huh?” He was being cruel to her, downright  _mean_ , and she was loving it.   
  
So much so that MJ just gurgled around the cock fucking her throat, hand at her cunt and playing with her clit while her throat was used like a sleeve. In and out, over and over, the dick black as a shadow treating her mouth like a pussy more than anything else. Slobber and precum billowed out from her cheeks and lips, dripping down her chin and staining the sheets they were fucking over. Her red hair was being thrown around by the force of the joining, and she was  _loving it_ .   
  
Being fucked more than loved, a boy maybe  _half_ her age, but honestly closer to 20 than she was 40, treating her so viciously. It was something she had  _dreamed_ of, and it was only getting all the more hotter, especially when it was something that her husband couldn’t do to her. Not after the  _months_ she’d gone without relief.   
  
“That’s right bitch, you  _cunt!_ ” Miles all but yelled at her, and he was stuffing her face with it. “I’m gonna cum! Fuck yeah! I’m going to… I-I’m gonna cum!” Maybe it was a façade that cracked with it, or maybe it was just that desperate, but he pulled MJ’s face until it felt like his dick was at the entrance to her gut. She  _screamed_ into it, batting at his thighs for relief.   
  
But instead, he came in her gut. And MJ exploded with him.   
  
It was as though lightning had cracked in her skull with it, her thighs exploding outwards with the juices that all but  _shot_ down her leg. Her cunt clenching and pulling in closer, her legs spasming worse than she thought most villains could make her crack, and she was throwing her eyes backwards with it. She missed Miles doing the same, all while he  _ground_ his cock in her throat, and she was forced to taste him.   
  
He pulled out with a groan, drawing a long  _schlurp_ from MJ’s throat at the same moment. Her tongue followed his cock for a long moment, watching the saliva from it mix with the cum that was shot into her. A hazy gaze looked up at the chiseled black skin, and she saw the cock that was pulled out of her was still erect, pointing at her face as if threatening to come again. She almost laughed. A threat had to scare her, and she  _wanted_ more of what it was offering.   
  
“You know,” MJ spoke between heated breaths, swallowing another pocket of cum that had been shot into her. “My husband has a cock that can reach my womb,” she started to speak, edging closer and letting the same dick that had fucked her throat run up her face.   
  
It hit her eyes, staining her lid with cum as she crawled closer on it. She let it drag up her forehead, the long shaft of dark meat trailing through her hair the closer she got, hardly stopping. Not until MJ had put her nose into the sack of the boy she had just let throat fuck her, letting the eightteen year old sidekick see only half of her face, the other a literal table for it to rest on. Her breath drifted through his pubes.   
  
“Do you think you can fuck me deeper than that? Can you fuck my cunt up  _harder_ than that?” She asked, her back shivering at the question, wondering if she was becoming too strong in the power gap. This  _was_ usually where Peter would make a comment about loving her power trips. But she didn’t  _want_ that. She wanted to  _be_ the one being tripped.   
  
“How about we find out? Doesn’t take a genius to know a slut like you is going to get stuffed tonight.” And that was it. She grinned even as hands grabbed her shoulders and  _pushed._ MJ had almost forgotten that Miles was a meta-human and the sidekick of her husband. He was strong and fast, and he put her on her back with probably a hundredth of his strength, if that. And it let her stare up at his cock above her body, wondering if it would even all fit~. “I’m just going to be the one who watches you break for me.” Oh~, she was so excited for it.   
  
MJ bit her lip as she watched that dick line up with her cunt, the head of it pushing her walls away and making her cling to the sheets. Her legs bent and split, letting him lean into her and put his head right above her breasts. His hips slowly rocked forward, and pushing the dick inch by inch into her. The dark shaft of meat fucking her cunt up with entry alone.   
  
_“HNNNNNGH~~~,”_ It was maybe only halfway in when MJ came.  _Hard._   
  
Her body might as well have contorted from the force of it, fucking his cock even  _harder_ when her walls clenched. The whine of  _utter_ satisfaction was muffled by Miles’s groan, putting his cock in deeper,  _and deeper, and deeper~_ . Her toes were curling as she felt him nearly bottom out in her, or waiting for him to. Her body was already submitting to him and it was just  _sooooo goooood!_   
  
_WUMP!_ And like that, he was hilted, and Miles had never felt so exhausted in his life. Exhausted, but able to push more than any  _other_ necessity before. This was  _everything_ he ever wanted.   
  
Balls deep in Peter’s wife, MJ staring up at him with an expression straight out of a Japanese edit of her photos, and clamping down on his cock as if she had cum… no wait, she  _had cum!_ The boy could only grin viciously down at her, grinding his hips with the motion.   
  
“You satisfy yourself,  _slut?_ ” The action or name, Miles didn’t know which, made the woman stuffed with his cock lurch, as if struck with a powerful need to  _fuck!_ He had her covered. “Well I’m not. So, let me show just how much more of a  _man_ I am than your husband.” And he’d do it, with a spade as black as his skin.   
  
Beginning with him pulling back his cock and feeling like he was dragging her pussy out with him. The moan that MJ made as he started to rear back was exhilarating. It was like every single boost he’d ever gotten from the spider bite put into a  _noise_ , and then fed into his veins to fuck even harder. He wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.   
  
_SLAM! SLAM! SLAM!_ “AGH~ UGH GAH~!” Especially not when the horse was letting him fuck the supermodel Mary-Jane Parker on a bed in the Avenger’s manor, sweating and writhing on his cock, like the good bitch she was. “ _YES! Harder! Harder and harder you fucking stud! Fuck me up like the _ cunt  _I am!”_ A well-tamed bitch at that!   
  
“I’ll do more than fuck you up!” Miles promised. He never went back on a promise.   
  
He made sure of it as he grabbed her legs, curled around his waist and flung them forward. MJ let out a scream, probably from the cock stuffing her cunt a bit tighter, as her knees ended up on either side of her head, pinning her arms beneath her and folding her into a fuckable pretzel. A redhead with skin to match, and he was about to fuck her ass so raw that she’d have the curtains match the drapes.   
  
And she was smiling up at him through it all, looking like a well-framed image underneath him, drooling over his black cock in her white pussy. It was  _amazing_ he didn’t cum right there.   
  
“ _I’ll _ knock _ you up!”_ For a single lust-addled moment, Miles was  _sure_ he saw hearts in the woman’s eyes. It must have been his imagination, because in the next moment, they were crossed, flipped up, and mixed with her screaming his name.   
  
_ **SLAM!** _ Namely as he utterly fucked her into the bed. Fucking her so hard the mattress bounced underneath them, making him pound her pussy walls and making her climax over and over again on his cock. He was no one pump stump; he was a  _man_ and he was making the famous wife of Peter Parker  _beg_ for his dick! He was doing it and he wasn’t going to stop!   
  
“ _Yes~ Breed me! Make me your baby bakery!”_ Miles clamped his hands tighter on her ankles, nearly breaking them as he  _utterly_ ruined her cunt with his thrusts. His dick was starting to  _hurt_ he was so backed up. Only more reason to keep hammering forward. “ _I’ll _ never get fucked  _this hard_ a-a-aga _aaaain~~_ !” Slobber and drool fell from her mouth as she clenched her jaw, arching her back until her breasts were smothered in her face.   
  
Miles took a nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting it, but  _never_ missing a thrust into her warm cunt. He was getting the satisfaction he wanted, and MJ was getting what she deserved. She deserved this and she was begging for it. He could tell, and he had  _no reason_ to stop it.   
  
“You like it that much?” Miles asked, with the woman only nodding her head with breathless moans, her screams taking too much air out of her. “Then get ready to  _howl_ my name! Tell me just who’s about to knock you up. Tell me how  _great_ I am for it!” He wasn’t about to hold anything back.   
  
“ _You aaaaa-aaAARRRGHGAHGHGH~~~~!_ ” And Mary-Jane had to endure a man backed up for months cumming into her wanton pussy.   
  
Exploded was the best term for it. No relief for weeks and he had let loose  _everything_ he had with that burst, so great he could  _hear_ the cum shoot into her, loud enough to make the woman seize up like she’d been shot. His cum filled up her womb in a second, making her gut distend  _just_ enough for him to tell there was no way she was going to get out of this  _without_ being pregnant.   
  
Then it started to shoot out around his cock, matching with what had to be her fifth orgasm. It was enough for him to feel her legs going utterly lifeless in his grasp. Losing all strength as her face fell against one of her thighs, drooling with a twisted grin on her face. He watched it, grinding his cock into her a bit more, a bit longer, looking down at his handiwork.   
  
The wife of his mentor, his new breeding sow, stuffed with enough of his cum to be a regular factory for his kids. He felt  _proud_ of it, doing what the great Spider-Man couldn’t. Miles Morales knocking up Mary-Jane Parker, and knowing, remembering that she had begged him for it.   
  
“My bitch,” he spoke pleasantly, fatigue hitting him like a wrecking ball. All his relief hitting him at once. “My… cunt…” he let out as he finally collapsed into her breasts, cock still deep in her pussy. Mary-Jane kept herself folded in her mating press, the body weight of Miles keeping her tucked up like a nice pillow for future release. If she had breath or consciousness to speak, she would have  _bragged_ about it.   
  
And Emma had recorded everything that she needed.   
  
As the two collapsed into the bed, the empath put all her usual blocks into place, knowing right where the two of them were going to be. Waking up unaware of the other, and without a trace of what had happened between them. MJ would leave in an hour, taking a shower and rejoining Peter, and Miles would make his way down, talking about exploring the mansion.   
  
Neither would recall what they did, how they did it, or even why. Emma noted it fondly, even as she dragged tissues over her sopping and sore cunt. Fingers weren’t as grand as cock, but she was sore from masturbating to a model housewife being blacked by a young eager teen. And the moans, oh, there was no faking that.   
  
Even better, she had her tapes, to watch  _whenever_ Peter Parker started to annoy her, remembering that  _she_ had won the better deal here. Anything else… that was for another time and place.   
  
For now, life would go on, she being the only one aware of what had happened.  _As it should be~_ .   
  


* * *

  
“ _UH~!_ ” MJ let out a moan, accompanied by her cunt squeezing her husband’s cock. Her fingers  _raked _ at his chest as she felt the orgasm shoot through her, like a small bit of fire that went from pussy to brain, dumbing her down to match. Her teeth ground together at the same time, loving the feeling of his hot cum dominating her snatch. And all the while his fingers dug at her ass, holding her close to him, as  _his_ .   
  
The heat in the air, combined with the fresh orgasm, was just too much for her to stay upright. With another breath of relief, body barely relaxing, Mary Jane collapsed next to her husband, bouncing on the bed and head hitting her soft pillow. It was drenched in sweat within moments, stained by the acts they had committed. Peter next to her, breathing even heavier than she was, had yet to really let go of her ass. She didn’t mind. Not in the slightest.   
  
“ _Wow_ ,” he breathed out next to her, laughing a bit as he did so. “Had a fight with She-Hulk a couple of days ago, but  _man_ , you fucked me over better than she ever could.” And that made the sexually exhausted MJ laugh as well, finally getting her husband’s monster of a dick out of her snatch. Just as per usual her thighs couldn’t shut, too bow-legged to do much. “What made you want to fuck like this?”   
  
“Don’t know, don’t care,” was MJ’s tired response. She draped a hand over her husband’s chest, holding it there. He reached up and put his hand over hers, letting her feel his heartbeat. It was more like a freaking wolf’s than a spider’s beating that strong. “Honestly though… haven’t cum  _that_ hard myself in... a while… with you.”   
  
“Yeah, I could tell,” Peter admitted. MJ didn’t bother to act surprised. Her husband wasn’t a genius that Stark admired for nothing. She could hide a lot, but no one woman could hide sexual dissatisfaction like that. “Really happy that whatever that block in the way was is gone. Worried for a second I was going to have to take extreme matters to get it fixed.” That made her laugh.   
  
“Oh? Like what?” She turned to look at him, red hair curtaining her red face. He looked back at her, auburn hair glistening with sweat, almost the same as his eyes. “Going to start calling in the cavalry?”   
  
“Share you? No, more like start to ask Banner if I could get a  _hulking_ upgrade.” MJ held her face for a second before turning it into her pillow and billowing out laughter. Her husband, honestly. “What? I thought you had just gotten too used to the size or something. And I can’t hear the end of Natasha and Carol talking about how bigger is better.” She shook her head in the pillow.   
  
“Trust me, Peter, that would have done  _nothing_ but made me worry about you.” She let her hand trail down, grabbing at the softening cock. It was still hot with their fucking, warm to her hand and making her loins stir a bit more as well. Such a great thing to  _grasp_ . “Just forget about it though. Obviously, I’m still hot for you. So how about you show me all of those ideas you had tomorrow.”   
  
“Don’t know if I can do all of them. Like I said, fucking you is the hardest challenge I’ll ever get.” She grinned at him with the words. “But if you want  _all_ of them, I  _cooould_ ask Tony about those toys of his.” Now she grabbed the pillow and hit him with it, earning heated laughter between them. MJ fell into it.   
  
Even as she did so, she couldn’t help the idea of him being a bit more cruel to her, something she wouldn’t voice for the world, even if it sat at the top of her mind like the cum from Peter in her womb. The idea of having him turn her over, spank her and pulling her hair like a leash, demanding she suck his cock like a stick, all the while degrading her as a white slut… and lavishing his black cock.   
  
MJ didn’t know where it was coming from, and it was something she’d have to deal with alone. It wasn’t Peter’s fault she had those ideas, just like it wasn’t his fault that she thought about them while she was riding his cock, getting the relief she needed as she imagined him calling her everything but human.   
  
Besides, they were just fantasies. They weren’t real and clearly would never happen. Not to them.


End file.
